


You Can Ebb and I Can Flow

by ellethesnail



Category: Dear Evan Hansen - Pasek & Paul/Levenson
Genre: F/M, Graduation, Grieving, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-02
Updated: 2020-08-02
Packaged: 2021-03-05 22:00:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,155
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25672465
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ellethesnail/pseuds/ellethesnail
Summary: It's time for Zoe's graduation party, and she's not sure she's ready to process all the emotions that event brings.
Relationships: Evan Hansen/Zoe Murphy
Comments: 10
Kudos: 20





	You Can Ebb and I Can Flow

**Author's Note:**

> This is for the Sincerely Us summer gift exchange, for theresagoodchanceicouldfly on tumblr! I took inspiration from your first prompt and ended up with this. I hope you enjoy. <3
> 
> It takes place in a canon-divergent AU where Connor still dies but Evan tells the truth. He and Zoe become friends and end up dating naturally and healthily, and The Connor Project is established without any lies. (Title from “Grow As We Go” by Ben Platt because I’m naming all my DEH fics after Ben Platt songs apparently??)

“I swear if I have to buy one more purple plate I’m going to explode,” Zoe mutters as she and Evan stand in line to check out. Their cart is filled to the top with party plates, cups, napkins, and a colorfulassortment of other party supplies. Evan holds a bundle of purple and gold balloons while Zoe fiddles with the zipper of her purse, a slight scowl on her face.

“Next, please!” the cashier calls with a smile.

Evan and Zoe check out, stow their purchases in the back of Zoe’s car, and slide into the front seats.

“What’s next on the list?” Evan asks.

Zoe already has her phone out, scrolling through her notes app. “We need to grab some last-minute snacks and pick up the cake. Do you think it’s done by now?”

Evan glances at the car’s clock. “It should be.”

“Okay.” Zoe starts up her car. “We’ll stop at Hannaford first, then go past the Cookie Factory for the cake on the way home. Is there anything else we’re missing?”

“Maybe taking a second to breathe?”

Zoe lets out a little laugh, but it’s one of frustration instead of joy.“I can breathe once this stupid party is over.”

By now they’re driving, peppy music from Zoe’s phone playing through the speakers once her bluetooth automatically paired with the car. Zoe’s eyes are locked on the road, but Evan watches her, concern on his face.

“You know your parents want this to be fun, right?”

“If that was true, then why did they insist on having a party to begin with? I’d rather just do something with you, go on a picnic or something. I don’t know.”

“They’re proud of you. They want to celebrate that. I do too. You’ve made it through high school, Zo. You deserve to be celebrated.”

Zoe looks unconvinced. “Can’t I be celebrated with mac and cheese on the couch?”

Evan laughs. “We can do that after the party, if you want.”

“I would very much like that, yes.”

“So we’ll have mac and cheese to look forward to then, no matter how the party goes.”

Zoe’s hands are still white-knuckled on the wheel, but she smiles. “Good.”

They spend far longer than Zoe would have liked in the chip aisle trying to decide between Tostitos and Doritos, but they finally make it out of Hannaford. They fit the bags of party snacks in the back seat next to the Target bags and climb back into the front yet again. Soon, to both Evan’s and Zoe’s relief, they pull into the Murphy family’s garage.

“How did it go?” Cynthia asks from the door to the garage as Zoe and Evan unload the bags.

“Great,” Zoe answers. She only halfheartedly tries to hide the exasperation in her voice.

“They had everything we needed?”

“They probably had everything we’d need to throw a party for the whole high school.”

“Good thing we won’t be doing that,” Evan says, mostly to Zoe.

She smirks at him over the bags in her arms. Once they’ve emptied the bags’ contents on the dining room table, Cynthia busily begins to unpack plates and slide soda cans into the fridge.

“This looks great, guys. Why don’t you two check on how the music is coming along?”

Zoe heads off to the back yard, Evan trailing behind her. Tables have been set up on the perfectly-manicured grass with fold-out chairs placed around each one. Lawn games sit neatly in one corner and a fire pit sits in the other, waiting for s’mores when night arrives.

They spot Larry bent over a speaker system on the deck, fiddling with wires.

“Mom said to come check on how you’re doing.”

Larry looks from the speakers to the phone in his hand in frustrated confusion. “It won’t hook up right.”

“Let me try.” Zoe takes the phone, makes a few taps and adjustments, and soon the playlist Evan had helped her compile drifts through the speakers. The sound of Tessa Violet’s upbeat guitar glides over the empty lawn.

Larry gives an appreciative smile and squeezes Zoe’s arm. “Perfect. This is going to be a perfect night for you.”

Zoe forces a smile back.

“We still have awhile before people should be arriving. Go see if your mother needs help with anything.”

Evan and Zoe migrate back into the house, where the dining room has been transformed into a buffet of snacks, appetizers, and even chocolate-dipped strawberries. Zoe swipes one and pops it in her mouth.

“Those are for the party!” Cynthia scolds.

“If the party’s for me, then these are for me too, technically.” Zoe gives her mom a playful smile, licking chocolate from her fingers.

“Just one,” Cynthia relents.

Evan looks at the meticulously-set table. “Do you need any more help with anything?”

“I think everything is about set.” Cynthia smiles warmly, wiping her hands on a dishtowel. “You guys go relax until it’s time.”

That’s all the permission Zoe needs to grab Evan’s hand and lead him out of the dining room. They weave through the kitchen, up the stairs, and land in Zoe’s bedroom. She flops down on her bed, staring at the glow-in-the-dark stars tacked to her ceiling. Evan takes up his usual place on the floor, squeezed in the space between Zoe’s bed and dresser. He tucks his knees under his chin and glances at Zoe. From his spot on the floor he can’t quite see her face, but her legs hang over the side of the bed and he watches her foot bounce anxiously from side to side.

To most people, Evan knows he looks like the anxious one. He can never stand up straight, his hands refuse to stay still, and even meeting people’s eyes can be a struggle. Zoe, on the other hand, looks poised. She makes eye contact and gives reassuring smiles. But if people took the time to look closer, they’d see her smile falter when they turned their backs. They’d notice the way her foot always bobs beneath the cafeteria table at lunch, or how she white-knuckles her backpack straps to keep her hands from fidgeting.

“It doesn’t . . . this doesn’t feel right.” Zoe’s voice is tiny, barely noticeable.

“What? The party?”

“All of this.” She waves her hand towards the ceiling as if even the glow-in-the-dark constellations don’t belong. “I . . . should I even be here? It just feels _wrong_. Like all of this, it should all be for him. Not me. I . . . I don’t _want_ it to be for me.” Now the words are tumbling out on top of each other. Her voice wavers and hiccuping sobs slip in between her sentences.

“And yeah it’s partially because I don’t even care about half the people coming, I just had to invite them so Mom and Dad didn’t pity me too much––I’m so ready to be done with this school, to be _free_ , but––why couldn’t he get this too, Evan? Why didn’t he get this? I––I feel like such a _fraud_ like he’s standing right there behind me, watching me get all of this while he didn’t and I wish he was here, I just––I _wish––_ ” She chokes on a sob.

Evan unfolds his legs and stands up from his nook by the bed. He sits down gingerly next to Zoe on her floral comforter. Her eyes are squeezed shut, but she shifts slightly as the mattress sinks under Evan’s weight.

“I’m tired, Ev,” she continues, quieter. “I’m tired of having to carry all of this. And yeah, Mom and Dad are better, they’re trying, I know, and I love them and I know they didn’t get a manual for this either but that doesn’t mean it’s any easier. Nobody _gets_ it, that I just feel so––so mixed up, still. I still feel angry and guilty and I _miss_ him too, I miss the Connor he used to be, I wish I could get that back, I want it _back_! I want board game nights and showing him stupid videos and I want him to see the orchard––I just . . . I know I hated it all those last few years and I know I thought some horrible things but that doesn’t mean I wanted him _gone_ it just meant I wanted what we had, I wanted my brother back!

“I just, I _know_ it’s been over a year now, nearly two, and people just expect me to be _fine_ now––I don’t want to fake it, Evan! I don’t want everyone to come in an hour and me just have to stand there and smile like I did every single day of high school, I’m sick of it––”

By now her hands have tightened into fists, balling up the comforter in her grip. She still has her eyes closed, lying there on her back with tears streaking her face. A hiccup turns into a heavy sob and now her breathing comes out in short, ragged gasps. Every one of her muscles is tense as she shakes silently, as if controlling her body might control her emotions as well.

“Hey, Zoe, hey.”

Evan squeezes his fingers into Zoe’s fist until his hand has replaced the wrinkled wad of comforter. He holds her hand gently, rubbing his thumb across her knuckles, massaging her muscles until they relax. She finally relents, weakens her grip on the blanket, lets his hand fully hold hers. The creases on her forehead ease a fraction of an inch.

Without warning, still clutching Evan’s hand, she curls up on the bed. Her body wraps around Evan’s hand like a tornado around the eye of the storm. All at once, she looks like a little kid hiding in her room after her latest argument with Connor. It makes Evan’s chest ache. He doesn’t understand how she suddenly looks so _small_. All facade of Zoe the perfect salutatorian is gone.

“Hey,” Evan says again, just above a whisper. He brushes hair off her hot, sticky face. “Can you take a breath for me, please?”

Still huddled in a ball, Zoe takes a deep breath in, holds it as Evan counts to three, then slowly releases it.

“Perfect. Do it again.”

They repeat the exercise until Zoe’s breathing starts to steady. Her muscles slowly relax, and even her grip on his hand loosens. The panic of a moment ago has dissolved into exhaustion. A heart can only be this tight for so long.

“It’s so much, I know,” Evan finally says after a stretch of silence. He plays with Zoe’s hair, gently twisting it around his fingers and smoothing it out again. “It’s so much to carry and it sucks that people don’t get it, can’t really _understand_. And I know you miss him, Zo. I know it’s complicated and messy and hard, and your emotions are valid. This isn’t something you just ‘get over’ in a year, or two, or even ten. There will be pieces of Connor in so many things for a long time, maybe forever.

“But that doesn’t always need to be a bad thing. It means you cared about him. It means you don’t need to say goodbye, you don’t need to erase him. It means you can acknowledge him, and yeah, your parents are great but maybe they should be doing a bit more acknowledging as well because this _is_ hard.

“I don’t know, Zoe. I don’t have answers. This sucks and it’s miserable and it’s nothing I would’ve wanted you to go through. But I’m here, Zo. I won’t ask you to pretend. You can be real with me. And if that means processing Connor, then I’m happy to listen. If it means escaping to the basement in the middle of the party because everything is too much, then I’ll distract your aunt to cover for you.”

He hears Zoe give a tiny laugh. She slowly uncurls herself. She sits up reluctantly, pushing hair out of her eyes. Her face is puffy and red and she rubs at her eyes in frustration. “I probably look like a mess.”

“A little bit, yeah,” Evan admits. “But I’d rather have that than someone who’s pretending to have it all together.”

A smile breaks across her face, small but genuine. “Thank you, Ev. For everything. I love you.”

He smiles back and pulls her into a hug. “I love you too. You’re going to be okay. Tonight, let yourself feel whatever you need to feel, but also don’t forget to feel proud of yourself too. You made it out of that high school in one piece, Zo, through one of the hardest years of your life, no less. You have no idea how proud I am of you.”

“Thanks. And no matter what happens with this party, we _are_ eating mac and cheese afterwards. I am holding you to that.”

Evan grins. “I wouldn’t dream of saying no.”

**Author's Note:**

> you can find me on tumblr @thatfriendlyanon if you wanna say hi, see more stuff like moodboards/playlists/whatnot, or just pop by. thank you for reading! <3


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